Under Alien Skies 3, Girls' Night Out
by Alec Star
Summary: Sam and Janet get a chance to talk and things snowball from there. Third story in the 'Under Alien Skies' series.
1. Chapter 1: A Bug's Life

Disclaimer: I don't own the concepts, I don't own the characters, I make no money, I make no sense and I get no sleep, though on a positive note I absolutely love feedback (in other words, please review).

Warning: this story is a sequel to **_Under Alien Skies - Propagation_**, if you've read that story you know what this is about, if you haven't this probably won't make much sense and you should be warned that this story deals with adult issues including rape.

Timeline: this takes place roughly ten days after **_Propagation_**.

* * *

**_Under Alien Skies - Girls' Night Out... err... In_**  
Chapter 1: A Bug's Life  
(Sam's POV)

Okay, so I have a different jailer for the night. I know I shouldn't be thinking of it in those terms but the truth is that over the last ten days or so I actually got used to having Daniel around and I'm not too sure how I feel about this latest change. I mean, Janet is my friend but it's taken me this long to get Daniel to stop pushing, unfortunately tonight is a 'girl's night out'... or it would be if we were actually going anywhere. Our plan for the evening is not exactly my idea of fun, not really, but when Cassie called at the last moment to say that she had been invited to a sleepover at a friend's house, Janet called me to ask how I felt about the possibility of giving Daniel the night off from his babysitting duties and I couldn't quite bring myself to say 'no'... and now here we are and I'm wondering how I got myself into this mess in the first place.

Right now the popcorn is ready, Schroedinger is on the prowl for a lap --though apparently he still hasn't made up his mind as to whether it's going to be mine or Janet's tonight-- and we are getting ready to kill a couple of hours watching a fluffy, mindless, chick flick... or at least that's the theory. Unfortunately I can't quite shake the feeling that there's something else going on here and that's what's got me more than a little on edge. I may be a bit paranoid but I can't help but fear that Janet has something up her sleeve... and I suspect that --whatever it is that she is up to-- it's **_not_** going to be fun.

The thing is that even though I know she means well --that is definitely **_not_** the question-- ever since she found out what happened in Simarka, Janet's been trying just a little too hard to 'help me'... and what I'd really, **_really_** like right now --what I really need-- is to have my friend back. All I want to do is to be able to relax and hang out with her without feeling like I'm under a microscope but somehow I don't see that happening any time soon. Of course, I admit that maybe I've been trying a little too hard to get her to understand that I'm fine and that may actually be contributing to the problem.

Well, it's not like we get that many chances to have a night just for the two of us so maybe it won't be so bad... and **_maybe_**, if I tell that to myself often enough, I'll even get myself to believe it. The truth is that I've never been very good at this whole girlie thing, it's just never been me --and I suspect it's never really been Janet either-- but sometimes it's nice to pretend. The problem is that, thinking of the movie we are about to see, I can't help but wonder if maybe we aren't pushing it a little too far here, if maybe we aren't going for something just a tad **_too_** mindless. I have to say that a romantic comedy wouldn't have been my first choice, not even for a girls' night out, however --seeing how choosing the movie was up to Janet tonight-- there really wasn't anything I could do about it.

* * *

We've been watching this thing for less than half an hour and I'm growing increasingly nervous here. I don't know what's going on, not really, but there's no denying the fact that right now Janet seems to be more interested in watching me than in watching the movie and that is **_not_** a good thing. This is exactly the kind of scenario I had been dreading but I can't quite figure out just what she is seeing, what she's looking for... and --as long as I don't know what she's gunning for-- I won't be able to figure out how to counter her.

I mean, I know I'm probably just being paranoid but I can't help but feel like I'm walking straight into a trap here and that that trap is about to snap shut. Unfortunately --as long as I don't know exactly what it is that Janet is up to-- I can't afford to confront her about it either. Sure, she is making me nervous but somehow I get the feeling that I **_really_** want to pretend that everything is just fine, that I am totally oblivious to the fact that she's watching me like a hawk. I may be feeling like a bug under a microscope here but, the way I see it, as long as I keep my cool there is still a chance that things will turn out fine, that she won't say anything. It's basic common sense. As long as I keep quiet and pretend not to notice then there's a chance that she won't openly bring it up --whatever **_it_** happens to be-- but if I were to call her on it then I'd **_really_** be in trouble.

Well, if nothing else wondering about Janet's attitude and petting Schroedinger --who has finally decided to settle for my lap-- are a couple of nice excuses **_not_** to pay too much attention to what's going on on screen. What can I say, I've never really been one for romantic comedies, though I can certainly understand why Janet --who has suddenly found herself raising Cassie-- may be itching for a chance to watch something that is **_not_** rated PG. The thing is that by now I've lost track of just how many times I've seen this movie. Okay, so maybe not this movie in particular but honestly, with the kind of money script writers get paid, you'd think that maybe they could be bothered to come up with a new idea every hundred years or so!

Of course, now that I think about it, maybe it's better this way. I mean, at least this way I don't have to pay too much attention to what's going on on screen and yet I'll still be able to comment on it once we are done **_not_** watching it because, let's face it, that's **_exactly_** what we are doing. We are not watching the movie here, we are watching each other and I have no idea as to why... though maybe I should at least try to **_pretend_** to be paying attention, especially if I don't want Janet to call me on it.

* * *

I know I'm in trouble as soon as Janet hits the stop button mid movie. The problem is that even though I've been suspecting that she had some sort of ulterior motive even **_before_** we sat down to watch this thing, I still don't have a clue as to what it is that she is up to.

"Sam, we need to talk," she says and something about the finality of her tone makes me wince.

"I was watching that," I say, trying to stall for a little bit longer.

"No, you weren't," she challenges, not that I'm particularly surprised by the fact that she actually noticed.

"I was," I insist. "I mean, I admit that romantic comedies aren't usually my cup of tea but..."

"So that's why you weren't really paying much attention to the screen?" she asks, feigning innocence and that is **_not_** good. The problem is that Janet can be damned devious when she wants to be and that means I have to tread carefully, very carefully.

"No, I was wondering why you keep staring at me," I say, hoping that a partial truth will get me out of this one.

"Is that so?" she asks, making it clear that she is **_not_** buying it.

"What are you getting at?" I ask, deciding that maybe my best bet under the circumstances is to go on the offensive.

"I think you know," she replies.

"No, I don't," I say, and I really mean it. I have **_no_** idea of what she is up to, even if I have a nagging feeling that whatever it is I'm not going to like it.

"Sam, why aren't you watching the movie?" asks Janet, point blank.

"I already told you, romantic comedies are not really my thing. I mean, I keep trying to watch them but it's not really a kind of movie I've ever really enjoyed. Besides, all these movies are so alike that I already know what's going to happen next as far as the plot goes and how the whole thing ends so..."

"Is that so?" she interrupts.

"Yes, that and the fact that I feel like I'm under a microscope here and that is making me uncomfortable," I admit, hoping to guilt Janet into dropping it.

"I'm not buying it, Sam," says Janet, not taking her eyes off of me.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not me watching you that's making you uncomfortable here... or at least it's not just that," she says.

"So what is it?"

"You know what it is."

"Okay, that's news to me," I say, deeply relieved by the fact that I don't even have to lie about that one.

"You are not going to admit it, are you?" she asks.

"I don't know, I might if I had the slightest clue as to what it is that you want me to admit to in the first place," I growl, coming dangerously close to losing my temper.

"How about the fact that you are all but cringing each time there's as much as a kiss on screen?"

"No, I'm not," I say.

"Yes you are, Sam."

"So that was your big experiment?" I challenge, more than a little fed up with the whole situation.

"It's not an experiment... and me calling you on it is not what this is all about."

"Really?" I ask, not really believing a word she is saying.

"Really."

"And you weren't planning on watching me like a hawk **_before_** you pushed for us to watch this particular movie?" I ask.

"Okay, so maybe that did have something to do with it," she admits, "but I was hoping to be worrying about nothing. What I've seen here tonight, it's not nothing."

"You are blowing this out of proportion," I tell her.

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are... and honestly, if you wanted to make a point I could have suggested about a dozen better options than this one, you know? Maybe we could have looked for a romantic movie I could possibly have hoped to enjoy in the first place."

"It's not about the movie, Sam, and you know it," says Janet, refusing to back down.

"Maybe, but let me tell you that the fact that the plot hasn't exactly caught my attention is not really helping matters here."

"That may be true, but the fact that you have a problem has nothing to do with the plot."

"Maybe not, but let's face it, that plot has some holes that are big enough to fly a C-17 through them."

"It's not about the plot, Sam, and will you please stop trying to change the subject."

"I thought the subject was the movie and the fact that it sucks... or at least that's why we were **_supposed_** to be here," I say, trying to shift the focus back to Janet's deception.

"You are not going to make this easy, are you?" she asks, sounding almost resigned.

"Make what easy?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"What, you are asking why I'm not eager to go along with your attempt at making a federal case out of basically nothing?" I push back.

"It's not nothing, Sam, and you know it."

"Whatever, can we go back to watching the movie now?" I ask, even though I know it's not going to happen.

* * *

**_Author's note_**: Okay, that's the beginning of the first sequel. I know this is kind of off to a slow start, please bear with me here.

Alec


	2. Chapter 2: Somewhere in Time

**_For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1_**

Chapter 2: Somewhere in Time  
(Janet's POV)

Why did I expect this to be easy? Oh, that's right... I didn't. Of course, the fact that I wasn't expecting it to be easy doesn't mean I was expecting it to be quite this hard.

The truth is that right now Sam is being stubborn --no surprise there-- and that means that I have no choice but to be sneaky. Unfortunately outsmarting Sam is easier said than done and that means that my only option here is a frontal assault. That is not the ideal option under the circumstances but we left 'ideal' behind a long time ago here so it's not like I have much of a choice. The simple fact is that right now we are down to 'whatever it takes' because what we have here is a problem that has to be addressed and --now that the cards are on the table-- I have no choice but to forge ahead... whether I'm ready or not.

The thing is that I never really intended for this confrontation to take place tonight and that's left me in an awkward position. Yes, I had an ulterior motive when I chose tonight's movie, I admit that much, but I only meant to watch Sam and then --if my suspicions were confirmed-- I was going to come up with a course of action, unfortunately things didn't turn out quite as I had been expecting them to. The fact is that, by challenging me, Sam has basically forced a confrontation and that's left me with no choice but to try to improvise here... and that is not the best idea under the circumstances.

What is undeniable, however, is that my suspicions as to the fact that there were some things that were far from fine have been thoroughly confirmed, though I would much rather have been proven wrong about that. The fact that Sam is uncomfortable with even the idea of sex does not exactly come as a surprise --I saw it clearly enough when Hathor took over the base-- but it does add a whole different dimension to this mess. As I told General Hammond back when this thing first came out, my priority is Sam Carter here... and --even though helping her reclaim her sex life would definitely be seen as low priority by the military-- from **_her_** perspective this is almost certainly going to be a major issue somewhere down the line, one she is going to have to come to terms with and face, whether she wants to or not.

The thing is that even though I know we have a problem, and deep down she knows we have a problem, getting her to acknowledge that fact is going to be all but impossible. Sam is on high alert and breaching her defenses is going to be a challenge... and, to make matters worse, this is one issue in which the fact that Daniel is a guy means I'm on my own here and I'm not sure I have the time to be nice about it. This situation has gone unacknowledged for way too long already and it is one that is not going to get better if we keep on ignoring it so, rolling up my mental sleeves, I prepare to go on the offensive.

"I don't think so," I reply to her question about going back to the movie, especially considering that there's no point in keeping up this charade, besides, if she was so annoyed by my choice a couple of minutes ago, why would she want to go back to watching it anyway?

"What do you want me to say?" she says, sounding almost resigned.

"I just want you to talk to me, Sam."

"And what about what **_I_** want?"

"And what about the fact that you lied to me?" I challenge, point blank.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"When?"

"Back when you first told me what had happened in Simarka I asked you if you had even tried dating anyone since you came back from that mission and you said that you hadn't been on a date since long **_before_** that," I remind her.

"That's the truth," she says, still not willing to back down.

"I know, but you also said that you were not afraid of having sex... and --if what I've seen here tonight is anything to go by-- then that's clearly **_not_** the case," I point out, wondering how long it will take me to get her to acknowledge even that much.

"Actually, I'm **_not_** afraid," she shoots back.

"Don't lie to me, Sam."

"I'm not," she insists.

"Then what would you call it?" I push.

"It's embarrassing," she says, looking down at the cat.

"You find sex to be embarrassing?" I ask, not quite following her.

"No, that's not it," she says, shaking her head but still not looking up.

"Then what is it?" I insist, trying to understand what I'm dealing with here. I have to admit that **_this _**is one area in which we could **_really_** have used a specialist's help... or --failing that-- I could certainly have used a chance to consult with one before being forced into this confrontation.

"It's just that it sounds so damned stupid," she mutters.

"What does?"

"I'm not afraid, I wasn't lying when I said that but..." she trails off.

"But what?" I prod after it becomes apparent that she is **_not_** going to finish that thought on her own.

"Nothing," she says, visibly clamming down.

"Sam..."

"It's just that at times I feel like I'm ten," she whispers.

"Ten?" I ask, still not following what she means by that.

"Kind of," she says.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that my first reaction when I think about it seems to be something along the lines of 'ewww gross!' Let's face it, the physical details of just what it is that intercourse entails were never meant to be analyzed in any great detail," she says, finally looking up and visibly shuddering at the thought. I can't help but smile at her description, at the weird mixture of child and scientist that comes through in Sam's words, even though I'm well aware that there's nothing even remotely funny about this whole situation.

"Still, you do realize that even if you are 'just grossed out' you do have a problem, don't you?" I say.

"Maybe, but right now it's not one that's anywhere near the top of my priority list," she says, shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention back to the cat.

"I understand that but at the same time it's not going to go away if you just ignore it," I point out, knowing that I can't back down now. I may not have intended to have this conversation here and now but the fact remains that this is something that --now that we are here-- we might as well get out in the open... especially because I don't think getting her to talk about this **_again_** would be possible. I know I caught her off guard tonight and in spite of that breaching her defenses is proving to be a pretty major challenge... and that means that giving her a chance to rebuild those defenses is out of the question.

"I know but there's nothing I can do about it and to tell you the truth, for the time being it's not really a big deal," she says, still downplaying the whole situation. "I mean, yes, it may be a problem eventually but right now it doesn't matter. After all, it's not like it's interfering with my life or anything like that."

"No, but sooner or later it will, and you know it... unless you are planning to become a nun," I point out.

"Come on, Janet, it's not **_that_** bad. If I were dating someone I admit it would probably be an issue but..." she trails off.

"Really? Sam, do you really think that this would only be an issue if you were dating someone?" I ask, knowing that she **_does_** know better than that and that she knows I know she knows better than that.

"What are you getting at?" she asks, apparently growing more frustrated by the minute and I know that this could very easily turn ugly.

"How about the fact that in a way things would be much easier if you **_were_** dating someone, or that the fact that you are **_not_** dating right now means that you can put off confronting the issue and that's not necessarily a good thing because it is allowing things to fester and that will make it all that much harder for you to deal with this in the long run?" I push.

"Yeah, sure, the pressure of having to keep a relationship from self-destructing would really have made this whole thing so much easier!" she says and I can feel the sarcasm dripping out of that comment.

"Now you are just being difficult," I say, shaking my head. "That's not what I meant and you know it. I mean, I understand that and I agree that maybe at first the fact that you **_weren't_** in a relationship gave you a much needed breathing room, I understand that at first the fact that you **_didn't_** have to deal with any of this may have made things more manageable and I understand that at first you being in a relationship could easily have caused more harm than good... especially if that relationship had been with someone who didn't have the clearance to be told about the stargate in the first place."

"Then what's so wrong about me **_not _**being involved with anyone right now?" she growls.

"I'm worried that getting back in the swing of things is going to be hard for you and in that regard I really don't have the first clue in terms of how to help you," I admit. "You see, if you were with someone, with someone you actually trusted, it probably wouldn't be so bad but right now you are headed for a fairly uncomfortable situation no matter what you do. The good news is that you are doing pretty well in terms of your every day life, the bad news is that reclaiming your sex life is bound to be a nightmare because you are going to find yourself faced with two bad choices."

"What choices?" she asks, sounding more than a little suspicious.

"Well, sooner or later you **_are_** going to have to start a relationship with someone --that's a fact-- and when you do you are going to be nervous as hell. That's perfectly understandable and it is something you are just going to have to deal with but in addition to that you are also going to have to decide if you are going to tell the guy what happened in Simarka --at least some of it-- and hope that he doesn't run screaming into the night or if you are going to plow ahead keeping this situation to yourself... and run the risk that this whole thing will blow up in your face."

"You know, somehow the idea of becoming a nun is suddenly sounding kind of appealing," she says, closing her eyes and I can see that she's only half kidding about that one.

"I know but it just wouldn't be **_you_**, and that means that sooner or later this is something you are going to have to consider," I remind her. "Sooner or later you are going to have to figure out a way to come to terms with your body and your sexuality. You don't have to do it today or tomorrow but you can't pretend that this is not an issue. You cannot pretend that everything is fine because you know it's not. Pretending that everything's just fine is not going to help you here, not in the long run, and this is one aspect of things you **_can't_** allow yourself to be ambushed by."

"I just want this whole thing to be over, Janet."

"I know you do, but you can't just wish it away, Sam. That's not how it works and you know it."

"I know but..."

"But what?" I prod.

"But it was less than two hours," she says.

"What do you mean?" I ask, not having a clue as to what she's talking about.

"That's how long I spent in Turghan's tent," she explains. "I mean, that's less than the time it would have taken us to watch that movie... or at least it would have been if we had actually been watching it."

"So?"

"So I'm not going to allow those **_minutes_** to hijack my whole life."

"It doesn't work like that, Sam, and you know it," I point out, knowing that trying to quantify this in terms of minutes is not going to help her this time around. "You can't measure the impact of something like this by how long it took. I know you want this to be over but the fact is that it will always be a part of your past. You can get over it, you can reclaim your life and in time you may be able to minimize the consequences but you have to accept the fact that it's not going to be easy and that this whole thing is just not going to go away."

"I know," she reluctantly admits, though she still looks far from convinced.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3: It's My Life

**_For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1_**

Chapter 3: It's My Life  
(Sam's POV)

I don't know what to do now, how to explain. I understand what Janet's been trying to do, the things she's been trying to get me to acknowledge but that doesn't mean I have to like it... or that I have to be willing to go along with her. What part of 'it's **_my_** life' doesn't she understand? The problem is that, if past experience is anything to go by, then trying to get her to back down is only going to make matters worse, so I guess I might as well try to get this over with.

It's true that even before Janet decided to push this little heart to heart I knew things were far from perfect, but right now I don't have a clue as to what the next step should be... and, to be perfectly honest, I don't think she does either. I know I don't have to make any sort of decision right now, I know I can take my time --as long as I need-- but that does nothing to change the fact that things are far from okay. In fact, come to think of it, I think my main problem right now is that Janet's been pushing me to acknowledge just how far from okay things really are and I'm not sure I want to know.

Up until now I had been so worried trying to protect my place in SG-1 that I hadn't even notice the number of things that were being overlooked in the process. The thing is that even if I were to acknowledge that I do have a problem, I don't see how that's going to help and I don't know what I can possibly do about it.

I mean, as Janet pointed out, when the time comes I'm going to be faced with a very bad choice, but worrying about that is not really going to change anything... besides, the truth is that right now I can't see myself having sex. Even if I'm not afraid, it is not the most comfortable of ideas and that is not something I would expect to change any time soon so what's the point of borrowing trouble?

I am so distracted thinking about the future --and trying not to think about the past-- that I almost jump out of my skin when I feel Janet's hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asks and I realize that she's probably been trying to get my attention for a while.

"Yes, just thinking," I say, shaking my head as I try to clear my thoughts.

"About?"

"About what you said... and the truth is that I don't know how I'm going to handle that. I mean, up until now I had never even considered it but..." I trail off, still not quite knowing how to explain.

"Don't worry, Sam. I know you had never even thought about it and --as you said-- it's not like you are dating anyone right now so it **_can_** wait, you don't have to figure it out right this minute, that's not why I brought it up. It's just that I figured you can't afford to have the issue ambush you when you start dating someone."

"That's the thing, you see? I **_hadn't_** even thought of dating anyone..."

"You just threw yourself head first into your work and hoped that everything else would work out **_somehow_**?" asks Janet with a knowing smile.

"Yes, I guess so... though I'm not really working more than I did before Simarka," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"In other words, the fact that you were a workaholic who **_wasn't_** dating before that mission basically served to mask the fact that you **_weren't _**coping?"

"Hey, I'm coping," I say.

"Yes, just not very well, at least not in this particular regard," she points out.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask, letting out a sigh.

"How about the truth? Yes, you are doing fine when it comes to 80 percent of your life, but that pesky 20 percent is going to be the hardest to overcome and I think you know it... especially because it is a 20 percent you can try to sweep under the rug and pretend it isn't there," says Janet, refusing to back down.

"I know but..." I say, not knowing how to explain any of this. Janet may be one of my best friends and I am really grateful for the fact that she is **_not_** treating me any differently, that she is not walking on eggshells around me and acting like I should be protected from anything that could possibly upset me or trigger a memory, but at the same time I can't deny that I'm doing my best **_not_** to remember.

"But it's too tempting to pretend?" she asks.

"How did you...?" I trail off.

"It's a natural defense mechanism," she points out. "You can cope successfully with most aspects of your daily life and arrange things in such a way that the ones that are still giving you trouble are unlikely to pop up in the first place so you don't have to think about them. That's why that last 20 percent is so hard to overcome, because --up to a point-- you can function without it... at least for now. May I ask you something?"

"**_Now_** you are asking?" I growl, not quite believing my ears. I mean, if she had asked that **_before_** we started this 'friendly little chat' it would have saved me so much trouble.

"How bad is it?" she asks, totally ignoring my little outburst.

"How bad is what?"

"The trouble you are having," she explains.

"It's manageable," I say.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know, I mean, it's not like I have a frame of reference here so it's hard to quantify... besides, it's not like there is a clearly defined scale that can be used to measure..."

"Let me rephrase that, can you tell me how you are **_really_** doing?" she interrupts me.

"It's not too bad for the most part. I mean, something will trigger a memory every now and then and that's not fun but I guess that's to be expected, other than that... well, the truth is that there **_haven't_** really been any major changes in my life as a result of any of this," I say. "Yes, I'm not dating anyone but the truth is that that goes back a lot further than Simarka..."

"How much further back?" asks Janet.

"Over a year. I haven't really dated anyone since I broke up with Jonas."

"Jonas?"

"Jonas Hanson, my ex-fiancee," I explain.

"Wait, Jonas Hanson... wasn't he the leader of SG-9, the one who died in..."

"P3X-513? Yes, **_that_** Jonas Hanson," I confirm.

"But that was after I was assigned to the SGC and you never even mentioned that you were involved with him!" exclaims Janet, looking kind of hurt.

"Because I wasn't," I explain. "I broke off the engagement **_before_** he was assigned to the SGC... in fact I broke off the engagement long before there **_was_** a SGC."

"So it wasn't mutual?"

"No, he was..." I trail off, **_really_** wishing I could get out of this one.

"He was what?"

"Too controlling," I admit.

"Controlling how?"

"He was a very passionate man, I'll give you that, but he was also deeply religious and that was part of the problem. Let's just say that he had some pretty serious issues and leave it at that," I say, hoping that she will get the hint and let the subject drop.

"What kind of issues?" pushes Janet, obviously not willing to go along.

"Well, sex **_was_** a pretty major part of the problem," I admit. "A part of him was convinced that it was a sin but at the same time he had a bit of an impulse control problem and that meant that celibacy wasn't really for him, so he would blame me."

"Blame you?"

"For 'tempting him', for 'making him stray'... even though more often than not he was the one who initiated it," I explain. "That and he wanted to know where I was each and every moment of the day, who I talked to and what I was doing. I wasn't willing to put up with that and when he got physical with me I realized that it was never going to work so I left."

"He hit you?" asks Janet, looking more than a little shocked.

"Once," I say, feeling more than a little embarrassed. "I didn't stay around to find out if he'd do it again --even though he all but begged me to give him another chance-- still, I think it's a pretty safe bet that sooner or later he would have."

"And there was no one between Hanson and Turghan?"

"No, why?"

"Because that may end up making things worse," she says.

"Worse?"

"Yes, because chances are you are not just dealing with the fallout from Turghan here but that you also have some issues left over from your relationship with Hanson. I mean, I don't think they would necessarily have **_become_** issues on their own but with the situation with Turghan added on top of what must have been a pretty shaky foundation to begin with, things could get complicated."

"Believe me, Jonas has nothing to do with anything," I say. "I mean, I admit that I came pretty close to making a huge mistake on that one but I can honestly say that nothing happened... and I had really already gotten over that breakup long before Simarka so it's really not an issue."

"If you say so," says Janet, still sounding far from convinced.

"Yes, I say so," I growl. "Let's face it, seeing how I **_wasn't_** dating anyone when the whole thing with Turghan went down that means that my previous relationship had ended before that. Relationships don't usually end because everything is perfect so the fact that there were some hard feelings after a rather nasty breakup is something I would deem to be normal."

"Okay, I guess I can give you that one, but you still haven't told me how bad things are right now," she reminds me.

"As I said, other than the odd memory popping up every now and then I'm doing fine... and I assume that those memories, as well as a few nightmares are pretty much to be expected. They aren't fun but..."

"Are we talking memories or flashbacks here?" interrupts Janet, growing suddenly serious, not that she was particularly cheerful before.

"Memories... and the truth is that even those memories fall more under the category of 'strange' than 'bad'."

"What do you mean?" she asks, sounding rather puzzled.

"It's more like little details than anything major," I explain.

"Care to give me an example?" asks Janet.

Do I even have to say that a trip down memory lane is not exactly my idea of fun right now?

* * *

**_Author's notes_**: hi guys, first of all thanks for your reviews, they are really appreciated.

Also, I know you are not going to like this considering that this chapter's end is kind of cliffhangerish, but I'm afraid that next week there won't be an update. Sorry about that. The way things stand future updates are going to be posted on the following dates:

-**_Birds of a Feather_** (story id: 2326309) will be updated on January 2, 2006.  
-**_Under Alien Skies-Girls Night Out_** (story id: 2694424) and **_In the Genes_** (story id: 2645891) will be updated on January 5, 2006.  
-**_A Watcher's Son_** (story id: 2695189) will continue to be updated every other day.

Having said that **_HAPPY HOLIDAYS!_** (BTW, did you know that reviews make great presents?)

Alec


	4. Chapter 4: The Good, the Bad and the Ugl

**_For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1_**

Chapter 4: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly  
(Janet's POV)

For a moment I'm afraid that I may have pushed things a little too far by asking Sam to share some of her memories with me but at the same time I realize that the more information I have about what I'm dealing with here, the easiest it's going to be for me to come up with some sort of strategy because I have to admit that right now I'm playing this one by ear and that's probably **_not_** the safest approach under the circumstances. The problem is that while I do need as much detail as I can get, there are quite a few elements to this whole mess that leave me saying 'I **_really_** don't want to know'... not that Sam is looking forward to what's to come here either.

I understand that she is feeling uncomfortable --just as I realize that in spite of all the assurances she's received up until now she is still afraid that I may change my mind and recommend that she be removed from SG-1-- but at the same time I realize that there are some aspects of this thing that we just can't keep on putting off for much longer. Yes, she is nervous about sharing some of the details of what happened in Simarka but that is only natural. I understand that, just as I realize that up until now we've carefully avoided all details concerning what happened in that tent and sooner or later that's going to have to change and the way I see it this is as good a chance as any for that to happen.

What I do know is that this is one conversation that was all but unavoidable and it is also one we will both be a lot happier once it is out of the way. We both want it to be in the past, the problem is that getting it there involves actually **_talking_** about some things neither one of us knows how to approach... of course, at the same time I know that there is a line I should be very careful not to cross here and right now I'm wondering if I haven't accidentally stepped over it. I'm still wondering what to do, asking myself if maybe I should try to give Sam a way out of her current predicament when she says:

"They are just memories, Janet, that's all and --as I said-- not all the memories are that bad, some are just little things that don't seem to make much sense. Heck, some of them I think could almost be described as funny under different circumstances... if they didn't..."

That is not something a I had been expecting to hear and I have to admit that I am more than a little curious, though going by the way in which Sam trailed off I think even those 'funny' memories are bothering her.

"Funny?" I ask, wondering what she could possibly have meant by that.

"Yes, silly things, like what happened when Turghan ripped that stupid dress off my body."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that's one that keeps coming back whenever I'm getting dressed or undressed so it is something I literally can't help but remember every day," she explains. "You see, after I had been caught he dragged me back to his tent, tied me to the center pole and then ripped my dress off using the same knife I had thought to use as a weapon. He slashed it off in a matter of seconds, like it was nothing. He was getting ready to beat me... and then he was unexpectedly ambushed by my underwear."

"Your underwear?"

"Yes, he wasn't really expecting it, you see? He got rid of my panties in a matter of seconds, of course, but my bra was something unlike anything he had ever seen before and he didn't really know what to make of it. Can you imagine? There I was, almost completely naked, with my hands tied above my head, totally at his mercy and Turghan was trying to figure out how to get the damned thing off!"

I can't help but snort at the mental image. I guess that's **_not_** the way in which Turghan had been expecting things to go, in fact it doesn't even fit with my own expectations as to how the events had unfolded... and oddly enough that is something I find deeply disturbing.

I know Sam chose to share that particular memory deliberately, thinking it was one that wasn't really frightening, only that is **_not_** the way it's working out here. Sure, there's an element of humor I wasn't really expecting but at the same time that's what makes it so real, the fact that it is something that **_is_** so alien, so unexpected... something that **_doesn't_** fit well with my preconceived notions of what happened in that tent and that's what's making the whole incident suddenly seem so incredibly **_real_**.

Turghan had never seen a bra before.

That sounds so absurd, after all it is something we take for granted but in an alien world it is only natural that it would turn out to be something unexpected. For him it was 'natural' to tie Sam to the center pole of his tent with her hands above her head and then rip her dress off... in fact that's what the average cheesy movie here on earth would have shown before a dramatic fade to black, but the truth is that that scene makes no sense whatsoever and that is what Sam's almost humorous description brings home with absolute clarity.

Shaking my head I say, "I can imagine how **_that_** would have come as a surprise, but I assume that's **_not_** the part that's causing you trouble."

"No," she reluctantly admits but doesn't volunteer anything else.

"And what about those memories that **_do_** represent a problem?" I push.

"I don't know, I mean, that one is almost always there when I'm getting dressed, the others are more unpredictable and the truth is that that makes them a lot harder for me to control. I don't know what's going to trigger them and..." she trails off, shaking her head.

"Sam, have any of those caught you off guard while you are off-world?" I ask, knowing what her answer is likely to be.

"Once," she admits.

"When?"

"When we first encountered the touched."

"What happened?" I ask, knowing that it was one of the first missions after Simarka so I guess it is only natural that if there was going to be a problem it would pop up then... of course, if this is an ongoing thing then the end result **_may_** be that SG-1 will have to remain grounded for a little longer, though I don't think they would be particularly happy about that one.

"When we first got to that planet it was dark... and basically the first thing we stumbled on was a woman being raped. I wanted to stop it, to get in there and... but Daniel stopped me," she says, looking away.

"Daniel?" I exclaim, more than a little surprised. From what I've seen of him I would have assumed that he would have been right along side her in trying to prevent it.

"Yes, he said..."

"What did he say?" I ask, wanting some sort of explanation, something to help me make some sort of sense out of Daniel's alleged actions.

"He said that it was natural... acceptable," she says.

"**_WHAT!_**" I yell, not quite believing my ears.

"Okay, so he didn't use those words but..."

"What exactly did he say?" I ask.

"That that was how primitive men had sex, basically. That it was survival of the fittest in a world in which only the strongest males got to mate."

"And then what happened?"

"I was going to go in there anyway and then the colonel tried to stop me. I came this close to disobeying a direct order but then the untouched arrived and, well, you know what happened then."

"Oh, yes. Boy was that a first week in the job I'll never forget!"

"And the worst part is that it was a pretty **_normal_** week by the SGC's standards," she reminds me with a small smile.

"So that's the only time your memories have been a problem off world?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"For the most part," she says.

"In other words, 'not really'?" I challenge her.

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"I mean that while some memories have popped up while I'm off world, they've never really come close to interfering with my duties. Yes, I admit that dealing with Hanson was no picnic but to tell you the truth I don't know how much of that one had to do with Turghan and how much it had to do with Hanson himself."

"Didn't you say that you were over him long before Simarka?" I remind her.

"Yes, but the fact that I was on the team that got pegged with the responsibility of bringing him down was no picnic. It may have been all over between us a long time ago but our relationship **_was_** pretty serious at one point. Jonas was the man I was going to marry and the fact that I was over him doesn't mean I had amnesia. I could still remember the way things used to be, the good, the bad and the ugly... especially the ugly."

"That bad, uh?" I ask, wincing as I remember my own marriage.

"Actually I think the problem is that it **_wasn't_** all bad, I couldn't just shrug it off saying 'good riddance'. I knew almost from the moment we arrived that chances were we would be forced to kill him and that was hard but I had a job to do and I forced myself to do it... sort of."

"Sort of?"

"At one point I had a chance to take him out," she admits, "it would have been as simple as pulling the trigger but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Okay, **_that_** I think is probably normal under the circumstances and I agree that that may well have had more to do with Hanson than with Turghan," I say, trying to reassure her. "So is that it as far as off world incidents are concerned?"

"Yes," says Sam, looking rather relieved and suddenly I find myself going into high alert mode and wondering just what it is that I am not seeing here.

"Are you sure?" I push.

"**_Yes!_**" she insists, a little too quickly for my liking, and even though I am almost tempted to believe her, I can't completely deny the nagging feeling in the back of my mind and then it hits me.

"And what about Hathor?" I ask, realizing that while Sam is probably telling the truth as far as **_off world_** incidents are concerned, well, not all incidents have taken place off world.

"Well, you know I wasn't particularly comfortable with what we had to do to get out of that cell," she admits.

"But that was another tough one, wasn't it?"

"It was hard but I did what had to be done, still..."

"I know, Sam, and you don't have to pretend that it wasn't. That's what I've been trying to get you to understand. It's okay for you to be struggling with these things, what's not okay is for you to keep trying to deal with this on your own and shutting everybody out."

"But what if...?" she trails off and I realize immediately what she **_isn't_** saying.

"I'm not going to change my mind. Yes, I understand how hard the whole incident with Hathor must have been from your perspective but as far as I'm concerned the bottom line is that you did what had to be done, even if it was anything but easy... and the same goes for the incident you mentioned when you first encountered the touched. Yes, your reaction to that one may have been exacerbated by what you had gone through with Turghan but the bottom line is that it was a **_natural_** reaction," I say before going on. "Let me ask you something, before Turghan, if you'd come upon a woman being raped, would you have turned your back on the incident or would you have tried to stop it, just like you did when you first encountered the touched?"


	5. Chapter 5: Killing Words

**_For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1_**

Chapter 5: Killing Words  
(Sam's POV)

Okay, so I have to admit that I had never really considered things from that perspective, I had never really stopped to think what my reaction to the incident we were confronted with when we first arrived in P3X-797 would have been **_without_** Turghan and the truth is that Janet is right, I would still have tried to stop it.

"Okay, so you may have a point there," I admit.

"You've been really worried that someone was going to connect the dots on that one sooner or later, haven't you?" asks Janet with a knowing smile.

"A little," I say, just wanting this conversation to be over with but fearing that it is anything but. From the way this whole evening has played out I suspect that Janet had been looking for a chance to ambush me for a while and that means that she is not likely to let go any time soon.

"You know you don't need to stay in high alert mode any more, don't you?"

"I know... it's just that I'm having a hard time believing it," I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, it's been a long time," she reminds me.

"Believe me, I know."

"That bad, uh?" she asks.

"Define 'that'," I challenge, not quite knowing what else to say. Even I know that as far as delaying tactics go, that one is pretty childish but right now I have to at least try to rebuild my defenses after the way in which Janet has been pounding on them.

"Sam..." she growls.

"Well, it's been no picnic, if that's what you are asking, but at the same time I don't want to over-dramatize it. Yes, it's been hard and there have been some difficult moments but it hasn't been all bad. I mean, in spite of everything these past few months have been some of the best of my life. The stargate is..." I trail off, not quite knowing how to put it into words.

"So as far as you are concerned the rewards make it all worth while, in spite of the pain?"

"Exactly... that's what I've been trying to get you to understand."

"Believe me, I understand it, that's not the point. The point is that you still seem to think that you have to make a choice here and you don't."

"A choice?" I ask, not quite knowing what she's trying to say.

"Either you admit that everything is **_not_** perfect and let someone help you deal with this mess or you keep going through the stargate," she explains. "You can keep your job and still get the support you need, no one is going to think any less of you if you admit that you are having a hard time trying to come to terms with this."

"I know that and that's not it."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not that I'm pretending everything is perfect, it's just that you keep trying to blow things out of proportion. I've been working with Daniel and..."

"Working with Daniel?" Janet interrupts me, looking somewhat puzzled, and I realize that I just said too much. The truth is that we have been **_bending_** the rules a little and that is **_not_** something we wanted Janet to hear about... especially because the rules we've been bending are **_her_** rules. The problem is that, seeing how I've already said too much, I'm not sure I'll be able to fix this one.

"On those guidelines for other teams," I explain, trying to divert her attention, "and that's helped me understand what happened in Simarka a little better."

"Understand it how?" she asks, and I have to struggle to keep the relief off my face when I realize that she's **_not_** focusing on the fact that I **_haven't_** been getting the ridiculous number of hours of sleep a night she's been insisting on.

"It's just that I was seeing the whole incident from my perspective and in a way that was making things worse. You see, at first I didn't even realize that part of the problem were my own expectations."

"**_WHAT!_**"

"It's just that it's helped me realize that I was not taking Turghan's own culture into account when I thought back to the whole thing. Yes, the way he treated me was unacceptable from my perspective, it was something I never really thought I'd ever have to face but the bottom line is that it was also wrong of me to expect his behavior to conform to modern earth parameters. Let's face it 'consent' is a relatively modern concept even here on earth and the stargate was buried a **_very_** long time ago. That is something I should have realized before I went through the gate for the first time but I didn't. I guess in a way you could say that I wasn't really expecting alien cultures to be alien and that was **_my_** mistake. I had tacitly assumed that my own values would be universal somehow and that was a pretty dumb assumption. That's something Daniel and I have talked about a couple of times and I think he's managed to explain it a lot better than I ever could. He said that it was all a matter of perspective, that I was raped by Turghan but Turghan never raped me. It took me a while to figure out what he was trying to say with that but I think I understand it now."

"What do you mean?"

"In a way the one who hurt me the most wasn't Turghan, it was me. What he did to me... he never really expected it to be quite so devastating. Sure, he wasn't exactly trying to show me a good time or anything like that but at the same time I have come to accept that part of the problem had to do with my own background, it had to do with how I expected to be treated in the first place. Back in Simarka Nya seemed to think that being beaten and abused was normal and the idea that she could be so accepting of such treatment enraged me, but the truth is that because of that acceptance she probably would have been able to shrug something like what Turghan did to me off as something 'normal'. What I have to do is to learn to separate the physical trauma from the psychological one and..."

"In other words you are rationalizing this whole thing to kingdom come and you think that that makes it all right?" asks Janet, cutting right into my attempt at an explanation.

"No, that's not it, not at all. It's just that..." I begin but then I stop, not quite knowing how to phrase things. Daniel is so much better than I am when it comes to putting things into words.

"What?"

"I don't know... I mean, I do know but I'm just not sure I can explain it," I say, still struggling to find the right words.

"Try it, Sam," growls Janet and I can see she's **_not_** happy.

"I'm not denying or minimizing what Turghan did to me but at the same time Daniel's helped me separate what Turghan did to me from what I was doing to myself. There's nothing I can do to change what he did, I have to accept that, but the truth is that what he **_did_** do was just a small part of the problem, the bulk of it came from the weight I was **_giving_** to what he did. It wasn't Turghan who hurt me, it was me."

"Are you saying that you think this was your fault somehow?" asks Janet, sounding more than a little horrified.

"No, of course not," I say, growing increasingly frustrated.

"Then I'm afraid I'm not sure I'm following you."

"And that's pretty much why I said that I wasn't sure how to explain any of this. Look, what he did was bad, very bad, I'm not denying that, but at the same time **_I_** was the one who turned it from bad to unacceptable, I was the one who turned it into a crime. I was the one who was making me his victim and that was downright stupid of me."

"It may have been 'downright stupid' of you but you are **_not_** going to get me to believe that you can brush it off so easily," she warns me.

"Believe me, easy is **_not_** one word I would use to describe any of this, and I'm not trying to brush it off, but at the same time I **_am_** trying to put it in perspective because the truth is that if I intend to keep on going through the gate then I have to accept that my own values are not universal."

"It's so good to know you are **_not_** hyper-rationalizing this," says Janet, rather sarcastically.

"I'm not hyper-rationalizing it, I'm just trying to understand!"

"That's the whole point, Sam!"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"What I'm trying to get you to see is that this has **_nothing_** to do with understanding. You don't have to validate or deny your feelings based on rational explanations... they are **_feelings_**," she reminds me.

"I know that."

"Really?"

"Yes," I growl.

"And you are saying that you can separate yourself from your own cultural background enough to understand and accept that different cultures have different traditions, perceptions and expectations and that you understand that it is not your place to impose your values on those cultures? Are you saying that you are willing to accept that when you are there, their values apply to you and that you are fine with that?"

"Yes," I confirm.

"Fine, then if that is so, why did you try to interfere back when you first encountered the touched? Why couldn't you just stand back and watch that girl being raped?" asks Janet, effectively turning my own words against me.


	6. Chapter 6: Play It Again, Sam

**_For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1_**

Chapter 6: Play It Again, Sam  
(Janet's POV)

Okay, so this evening is not exactly going as I had hoped it would, what else is new? The way I see it the problem --or at least part of the problem-- is that this whole situation has been allowed to fester for far too long and that means that the wound may have to be reopened. That is never a pleasant thing but at the same time it is something that, as a doctor, I'm well aware is sometimes necessary and the fact that what we are dealing with here is not a physical wound is basically irrelevant.

"So maybe I'm not entirely okay with any of this but I never said I was," says Sam, glaring at me.

"And, as I've told you time and time again, no one expects you to be," I remind her.

"Really? Then if you don't expect me to be fine, why do you keep throwing the fact that I'm **_not_** okay with any of this back at me time and time again?" she shoots back.

"Because you seem to be determined to deny it," I point out.

"But I'm **_not_** denying it, I'm just refusing to over-dramatize it, there's a difference. Yes, it happened and it wasn't fun but it's over, I can't change it and I have to go on living, what else do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," I admit, realizing that she **_does_** have a point. The thing is that --regardless of whether or not she has a point-- there is a lot more to this than that. Over the years I've learned to trust my instincts and right now those instincts are telling me that Sam is **_not_** being completely honest with me. **_That's_** the problem... or maybe the problem is that I was expecting her to be completely honest with me in the first place.

"Well, neither do I," she growls.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm worried about you," I say, realizing that prolonging this confrontation is not likely to get me anywhere and that pushing Sam away and getting her on the defensive is **_not_** going to help matters under the circumstances.

"I know," she says, letting out a resigned sigh. "I know you are worried, I know everybody is worried but I'm fine --or at least as close to 'fine' as I can be-- just more than a little tired of people trying to 'help me'. That is precisely the reason why I didn't say anything back in the beginning."

"Is it?" I ask, knowing that that is not the whole truth.

"Well, maybe it wasn't the only reason," she reluctantly admits, "but yes, it was one of them. Good intentions can be deadly, you know?"

"Yes, well, good intentions come hand in hand with friends who care about you so I'm afraid you are just going to have to put up with us for the time being. Now, I admit that maybe I've been pushing a little too hard here but..."

"You think?" she interrupts, glaring at me.

"But if you weren't being so stubborn I wouldn't have to do quite so much pushing," I go on, almost as if she hadn't interrupted.

"So you push and I push back and then you push even harder?"

"Yes, I think that pretty much covers it," I confirm.

"Well, you can stop pushing," she growls.

"Just as soon as you stop pushing back," I challenge, even though I'm not really angry.

"In other words we are stuck?" she says with a hint of a smile and I feel myself relax, at least a little.

"Or so it seems," I add, hoping to put this whole confrontation behind us.

I may have managed to confirm some of my suspicions tonight but at the same time I know that, in doing so, I may well have pushed things a little too far. The truth is that I never expected this evening to turn into a confrontation --though I probably should have-- and right now the time has come for me to back down.

I know that even though right now my every instinct is telling me to do something, to fix this whole mess **_somehow_**, it's not going to be anywhere near that simple. Sorting out this mess is going to take time and I'm going to have to be patient... and I freely admit that being patient is not something I'm particularly good at.

The thing is that I know that --due to some rather unique circumstances-- I am in a rather awkward position here, one that is far from ideal, one that requires me to play two separate roles that are not necessarily compatible.

Due to the highly classified nature of the SGC I have no choice but to try to balance the roles of friend and doctor here and --to make matters worse-- the fact remains that this whole thing is as far as you can get from my so-called area of expertise. That leaves me with little choice but to try to improvise and walk an impossibly fine line.

The thing is that I know that under normal circumstances being a doctor has to come before being a friend. That is something I've come to accept and that is usually my first response in those instances in which I have to be one or the other... the problem is that that approach is not the best one under these highly abnormal circumstances. The simple fact is that right now Sam needs a friend a lot more than she needs a doctor. That is something I keep having to remind myself of.

There are only four people she's told what really happened in Simarka and of those four, two are not exactly people I can imagine her feeling comfortable talking to: General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill. That leaves me and Daniel to deal with the fallout... and --as close as he may be to Sam-- Daniel is still a guy and that pretty much guarantees that there are some things she won't talk to him about. That basically leaves me and that means that being there for her has to be my top priority.

Sure, I still have to keep an eye out for anything that could possibly resemble a warning sign and I still intend to look for anything I can do to help her --both as a friend and as a doctor-- but for the time being the best thing the doctor in me can do is take a back seat to the friend. In other words, maybe the time has come for us to go back to trying to do what we had originally set out to do here: watch a movie, relax and forget about the SGC and everything that goes with it --including Simarka-- for a couple of hours.

It's time for me to forget all about being a doctor and for Sam to forget all about being an Air Force Major, though I do know better than to hope she will ever allow herself to forget all about being an astrophysicist. The time has come for us to allow ourselves to be silly for a couple of hours and forget about everything else... too bad we don't have anything decent to watch.

THE END (for now)

* * *

**_Author's notes_**: Hi guys, okay, thanks for reading (and reviewing). I know this chapter doesnít really feel much like an ending, sorry about that but as I said at the end of 'Propagationí'I decided to write a series of short sequels rather than a long one. These are 'snapshot' fics and the story woní' really **_feel_** resolved until the last one is posted. Again, sorry about that,

Alec


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